The Boss had just booked an old Flea Bag hotel called “The Californian”. There were two elevators, an AC passenger with swing doors and a Tiller Line hydro freight in the back. The Passenger provided one of the most interesting calls I have ever answered. We’ll start with the layout of the lobby. The lobby of this dump was fairly typical. There was a long couch that normally housed around eight to ten residents in various stages of decay. The couch faced the elevator, which was the center of activity for the entire hotel. Upon arriving I looked into the vision panel and saw that the car was about four feet above the floor with the inner door open. I noticed something else, legs, long legs, legs that ended at a very short red skirt. By this time the guys on the couch had spotted me and were starting to come out of their semi-conscious state. Well, hit the machine room fix this thing and get on home. To get to the machine room you had to walk across the entire roof. There is no way to compare this journey. You had to pass every vent for every toilet and sink in the building. I've walked by hundreds of sewage vents in my time, but these where different. These vents where almost lethal. There had to be something terribly wrong with either the sewer system or the tenants’ digestive systems. It could even be the food served in that area. All I can say is that it was a mad dash, rag in face to the machine room. Once in the machine room, I found the manila governor rope unraveled and wrapped around the governor itself. No fix here, rag in face then mad dash to the stairwell. Back in the lobby it would be an easy deal to get the trapped passengers out. I needed to get a ladder and unbolt the swing door lock. I heard a rustling and a kind of low conversation behind me. Looking over my shoulder I noticed that the Old Timers on the couch had become even more interested in what I was doing. Most had reached full consciousness. I got the swing door open and the legs were still there. To this day I can’t figure out how a great pair of legs like those could be somehow attached to one of the worst looking faces in San Diego. With the door wide open and the car at shoulder level, I’d seen all I needed to so it was time to get on with this deal. I put the ladder up against the toe guard and said to the guy in the car “I’ll help you out and you help her out, OK”? He answered in the affirmative. He backed down the ladder and the rustling behind us increased. It was her turn so she started backing down the ladder. At this point it was obvious that she didn't believe in underwear. She was backing down the ladder with her partner’s assistance when I heard a loud snap behind me. Checking over my shoulder, I couldn't identify the source of the snap but every eye ball on the couch was not just wide open but beyond wide open. To this day all I can figure out is that while she backed down the ladder, exposing it all, the Old Timers were finally awake and missed nothing. The snapping noise had to come from their eye balls popping open in unison along with broad smiles lighting up their faces. The next day we replaced the governor rope. The old guys on the couch were wide awake, slapping backs, poking each other in the ribs with all eyes glued to the elevator.